


Red

by resistance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anger, Caretaking, Cuddles, Fights, Fist Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Lance is a good bf, M/M, Modern AU, barfight, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistance/pseuds/resistance
Summary: Keith was Red. In more ways than oneOR// the one where author projects their feelings onto their fav characters because it's the only way they know how to cope with their emotions





	Red

 

_Crunch_

Keith was red. His knuckles were cracked and bruised, his nose clearly broken, spewing scarlet lava over his split lips. 

_Smack_

His ribs hurt. Good. He welcomed the pain, begged for it. The pain was all he knew- all he cared to know. 

_Thump_

He swung his fists and it connected with someone's jaw. He didn't even know their name- all he knew was that he was angry, and they had made him that way. 

"KEITH KOGANE!" 

Familiarity. Arms locked around his own, dragging him away from the man who painted him red. A shrill voice scolds him, blue eyes wide and arms gesticulating wildly.

"What the hell were you thinking, Keith? That guy was twice your size and twice your strength- he would have fucking annihilated you!"

He's pushed down, sat on a stool of sorts. Cool hands on his cheeks, turning him this way and that. Something cold touches his bleeding lips and he winces, flinching away. 

"No. He who gets into fights does not get to reject medical attention. So sit fucking still or I'll let that guy finish you off." 

More anger- not his own. A different shade of red. It taints the blue of the boy before him. Keith remains still. 

"Better. Now let's get you cleaned up." 

A damp cloth dabs against his upper lip, wiping away the blood with a surprising gentleness. It turns the bowl of water beside him a sickeningly pretty shade of pink, before returning to his face, this time his cheekbone. Huh, he hadn't noticed the cut there. Ice is applied to his hands, soothing the burning sensations there.

Something sticky is applied to his cheek: a butterfly stitch. It holds the gash closed- it stings. He winces again. The tan boy doesn't stop fixing him up. 

"Give me your hands," he demands simply, anger acting as a whetstone to his voice. His tone is razor sharp. 

He removes the ice from Keith's knuckles and dabs them dry, wrapping white bandages around his hand, weaving through his fingers and spiralling down his wrist. He does the same for the other hand, before pressing gentle kisses to each knuckle, soft lips ghosting the bandages. 

A warmth runs through Keith- it's blue. It cools his scarlet anger, extinguishing his fire. He sags, exhaustion smothering him like a wave smothers the shore. 

"Please don't make me do this again,"  the blue boy whispers, knuckles of slender fingers brushing Keith's jaw. "I hate seeing you hurt," 

Keith's arms rest on the boy's hips, wrists crossing over one another. He nods once, resting his forehead against Blue Boy's abdomen, smiling softly as fingers tangle in his hair, combing through it gently. 

"Promise me you'll at least try to avoid getting into fights, Keith,"

Keith glances up at the boy in front of him, their gazes meeting for a fleeting moment that feels a lot longer than it is. "I promise, Lance,"

 

Keith was okay with being red.

Because he had his blue. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a short little 500-word piece. It was originally a vent work, but then I calmed the fuck down, so now it's like a caretaking fluff piece.


End file.
